


I Didn't Mean To Hurt Anyone

by k_howard_is_here



Series: Twist of Fate [1]
Category: Six - Marlow/Moss
Genre: Bullying, Gen, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Social Issues, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 01:41:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20922065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/k_howard_is_here/pseuds/k_howard_is_here
Summary: Green is for jealousy. And also for venom.





	I Didn't Mean To Hurt Anyone

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired to write a modern twist on each of the Queens' stories and this is what has happened.  
A word of warning that all my works in this series contain heavy topics. Please read the tags with each one before reading.
> 
> This is also my first foray into fic writing for Six so comments/feedback is always welcome!
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr - sixqueendom

Was this it? Was this all there was to life?

It had been a question Anne had been asking herself a lot lately. She was struggling to find a purpose: everyone was here for a reason, weren’t they? As humans, we were hardwired to connect with the world around us. We crave social interaction; to forge friendships, to find love. Everyone was born with a natural ability, a gift, for something in this world. Something that would lead them on the path to success and happiness. And that success you shared with your friends, your family. People who cheered you on and supported you through all life’s challenges along the way to finding that purpose.

At least, that’s what they taught at school. But maybe it was all just complete bullshit.

Because Anne had no sense of direction on this apparent path to greatness. She felt lost and abandoned in the deep, dark woods whilst everyone else had found the other side, with its green grass and sunshine.

But if it was complete nonsense, how could she scroll through her Insta feed and see all those other girls posting amazing photos of themselves celebrating their achievements and sharing experiences with family and friends? Just being…happy. All she saw was girls dressed in pretty flowing dresses, heads tipped back in laughter at parties, surrounded by friends; day trips to the beach enjoying ice cream and competing for the best tan; exploring the sights in a bright, new city. It all looked perfect, and yet, all these experiences were alien to her. These girls had people who genuinely liked them for who they were and enjoyed their company. Anne had always striven to be herself: she made her own trends, was quite content with wearing her unruly mane of brown hair the same way every day, was naturally loud spoken and loved the colour green. Yet, nobody really seemed to like _her, _what made her Anne. Everyone just seemed to like telling her everything they didn’t like about her. She was like a carcass to a vulture: picked at until there was nothing left.

Anne was just too much, apparently. Maybe that was the problem: she was too much for this world.

  
As she flopped down on her bed with a sigh, Anne spent several minutes staring at the blank ceiling. She could feel the familiar ache of loneliness seeping in. If she didn’t do something soon, it would paralyse her and she’d not move from her bed for the remainder of the day. _There must be something someone likes about me._

She had the itch to check her phone, although she knew it would yield no result. What would anyone be texting her for? “Hey girl! Wanna go out to the cinema tonight?” Seeing the empty screen, Anne groaned and threw it across the room in frustration.

Who was she kidding? She was a misfit. She couldn’t understand why she was here. It’s not like anyone would notice if she wasn’t around anymore. She could simply disappear. Nobody would care.

Then, it came to her.

Perhaps she needed to do something to _make _them see her? If those girls at school didn’t pay attention to her just now, she would need to do something to make them notice.

But what?

Anne leapt from her bed and retrieved her phone from the floor, a fresh crack in the screen. She scrolled mindlessly through her Insta feed and stopped at one of the most recent photos of Catherine, one of the most popular in her year. She was posing by a lake, her auburn hair effortlessly tied up in a sleek high ponytail, accessorised with a floral twist knot headband. It had over 150 likes. Anne quickly skimmed through the comments. “Omg babe, love the headband!”, “Ugh, that headband is super cute! Where did you get it?”, “You look stunning! Love the hairstyle, Cat!”.

Anne grinned.

Nobody said she couldn’t re-invent herself.

* * *

The following morning, Anne had looked in the mirror before leaving the house feeling strangely good about herself. Was this what it felt like being confident? She did one last check on her hair, flashed a smile and dashed out the door.

Today was going to be different. She could feel it.

Meeting one of her only friends, George, at the school gates, she waited for his reaction. His eyes hovered over her neat ponytail, complete with a red and white polka dot headband, tied around her head. He raised an eyebrow.

“Your hair is…um…nice.”

Anne’s heart sunk a little, but she quickly shrugged off the lack of sincerity in his words. He was a boy, he couldn’t appreciate these kinds of things.

By the time they’d reached her locker, he was shuffling around nervously. “You know,” he bit his lip “you don’t have to be like them.”

Anne blinked at him. “I know. I’m not being like them. I just…fancied a change.”

As she walked to her first class, she felt her hopes rise. People were gawking at her as she passed them. But it was short-lived. Class clown, Henry, barged past her with his bulky frame.

“Think you look cool, Anne?” he mocked. “Copying the other girls?”

He sniggered, shaking his head.

* * *

By the time she sat at her desk in English, she was already regretting her decision. She saw Catherine giving her daggers from two desks along. She propped her head up on her hand and leaned over.

“Nice headband, Anne. It looks super pretty on you.”

There was no sweetness in her words, just pure venom. Anne felt like the snake was coiling around her chest, constricting and suffocating, ready to bite again. Because that is all she was to Catherine: a defenceless, insignificant creature she could poison.

As soon as the bell rang, Anne dashed into the toilets and snatched the headband from her hair. She ripped the ponytail out, allowing her thick bushy hair to fall limp below her shoulders. She angrily wiped the tears from her eyes with her sleeve, clutching the edges of the sink, staring in the mirror as she gritted her teeth.

“Get a grip of yourself, Anne. You aren’t fooling anyone.”

She flinched as the door screeched open and the petite blonde from her class, Beth, walked in. She stopped in her tracks when she saw Anne.

“Are you alright, Anne?”

Beth was the shy and quiet one in the class and was another easy prey for Henry, Catherine and the rest of their posse. Anne quite liked her, although they had never really spoken much. But Anne had no patience for her today. She could already feel a storm brewing.

“Does it look like I’m alright?!” she spat back, clenching her fists in a bid to stop her hands from shaking.

Anne had had enough of being poked and provoked. Surrounded by a circling pack of wolves all hungry for a bite. She was exhausted, overwhelmed. She just needed to find a way out.

Beth took a step back, one hand on the door handle.

“You don’t need to pretend to be fucking nice to me!” Anne snarled, lunging at the girl and shoving her hard against the door. Her words came out fast and furious. “Don’t be fucking fooled by anybody here! Nobody likes you, they’re all out for blood. You’re pathetic, you’re ugly, you’re worthless.”

She slammed a fist against the wall, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“GO TO HELL!”

* * *

Henry was waiting for her outside.

After Beth had scurried away sobbing, Anne allowed herself to sink to the floor. She was gasping for air, like she’d been held underwater. She concentrated on her breathing, in and out, in and out. Once she felt calm and composed enough to emerge from the toilets, it was Henry she came face to face with, arms folded.

“What do you think you’re doing, bullying other girls?”

Anne’s face was blank as she raised her head to look him in the eye. Before she could even think, she felt her fist connect with his nose. It was only when he crumpled to the floor that the world began to spin and she realised what she had done. Without a backwards glance, Anne sprinted for the door, her vision blurry with fresh tears.

“You’re fucking dead, Anne!” Henry screamed after her, wiping the blood from his nose. “Fucking. Dead!”

* * *

What had she done?

How had things spiraled so out of control?

Sobbing, Anne frantically ransacked her father’s garage in desperation. This had to end now. She didn’t know where else to turn. Without a second thought, she grabbed her father’s fishing rope and ran up to her room.

Catching her reflection in her dressing table mirror, she didn’t recognise herself. Who was this monster she had become? She was now not only Anne the misfit, Anne the loner.

She was also Anne the bully. An ugly, pathetic bully.

And there was only one way to erase all that.

Because, let’s face it, she was dead tomorrow anyway. Henry would make sure of that.

Unwinding the rope in her hands, she took one last look out of the window, at the world that had been so cruel and unkind.

And the letter on her bedside table:

_“I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”_


End file.
